A Dead Redemption
by Naughtbeast
Summary: After the events of the Horus Heresy, the original Legions are disbanded and the remaining Loyalists from the Traitor Legions find little solace in what they can and continue there never-ending crusade against Chaos... so what happens when one of the Loyalist Death Guard gets sent to a world of Bloody Evolution... will anything survive the embodyment of Death itself?
1. The Death of a Dead Man

**Well, here is my first attempt at writing a Warhammer fanfic ever, so I hope that whoever is reading this likes it...**

 **This isn't going to become a regularly updated story but leave a review if you'd like to see more of it, this is really just so I can see if I'm doing it right... I really only posted this because my other story's aren't going to be updated for a long time and I've had this in reserve for a while and I hope it can quench whatever thirst people might have...**

 **This was really just me getting bored and writing about my favorite Space Marine Legion, the Death Guard... before the heresy of course so you can stow your Bolters and Chainswords as well as call off the heretic hunt you've no doubt sent my way...**

 **Without further adieu, the first chapter of A Dead Redemption... I'm terrible at titles so give me a break**

 **Naughtbeast**

Chapter 1:

 _You are my unbroken blades… you are the Death Guard…_

These words… these were the single driving force of one of the most dangerous and formidable legions that were under the Emperors control during the Great Crusade… these were the words of Mortarion, Primarch of the Death Guard of Barbarus, the XIV Legion. These words that once so fondly roiled their minds, would bring them to the ruinous powers of Chaos and turn them from the eyes of the holy Emperor of Man. During the dark times known as the Horus Heresy, those of the Death Guard were pulled from the path of righteousness by their corrupted Primarch… or was so with the countless thousands of their legion. Though there were some that stood against the heresy that was instigated by their Primarch, they could not stand against the combined forces of the traitor legions and were all but destroyed… or so was thought.

As was known throughout the Legions, Mortarion was always accompanied by at least two of his personal bodyguards, the Deathshroud. They were personally selected by the Primarch himself after showing skill, fearlessness and endurance above all their peers, being inducted without consent and are marked as Killed in Action on all official records. That is why, when the official records came through in regards to the Death Guard, they were correct in saying that no loyalist Death Guard still remained alive… for the Deathshroud are the embodiment of death. The Death Lord, Mortarion, had brought 8 Deathshroud personally with him throughout his mission to join with the Warmaster Horus, although only 7 accompanied him to the end of the Warmaster's plan. While the Warmaster's fleet was stationed above Isstvan III, Mortarion tasked who he considered to be the most loyal to him unto watching Battle-Captain Garro through the ensuing days of the Warmaster's plan, the Deathshroud remaining loyal unto his Primarch until the very last moments, those in which the bombs were dropped.

As the Deathshroud watched from the dulled observation glass of a Death Guard cruiser, just as the vast clouds of green enveloped the world below him, a world he knew on which thousands upon thousands of his brothers were now in battle, he knew right there and then what he would have to do. He watched as the clouds of Life Eater virus begin to dissipate, only for the crimson beam lancing from the prow of the Warmaster's own flagship to ignite the vast expanse of ground beneath him in a viral plume of death and destruction. In those moments, he knew that his lord would have never been oblivious to this, the heresy that was unfolding beneath him… the demi-god he had served under faithfully for so many centuries was no longer the person he had sworn his allegiance to… he refused to serve under this corrupted hero.

Leaving his station of watching Garro, he silently made his way through the depths of the cruiser, never being seen once and leaving a wake of death behind him to all those he had deemed to be heretics. His new mission, one that he would hold true to for the rest of his ordeal, was to stay true to his god, the Emperor, and warn those who still held true to the Imperium. As he swept through the mute corridors of the cruiser, he felt the trademark lurch of his stomach when the ship accelerated into battle stance and he found his way to the nearest observation port to see the lances of the cruiser he was stationed on fire at another Death Guard vessel, that marked with the large High Gothic mark of the _Eisenstein_.

He refused to watch as more of his battle-brothers were murdered at the hands of his mislead Primarch, moving faster and with more purpose towards his objective, the landing bays of the cruiser. After making his way to the hanger, he commandeered a Thunderbird, an easy task considering that no crewmember besides Mortarion and the other Primarchs (And of course the Emperor) held any power over him, then flew the ship without pause straight for the smallest warp-capable ship in the fleet, the _Indomitable._ His Thunderbird docked in the hanger, the Deathshroud being greeted by four Death Guard Astartes who he commanded to escort him to the main command deck. As he arrived, he ordered a meeting of all Astartes and non-vital crew, the command deck being filled within minutes. He silently observed each of them, looking into the eyes of fellow battle-brothers and traitors alike, silently laughing as he watched the mortal crewmembers shift and tremble underneath his iron-cold gaze.

The next moments were filled with what the Deathshroud dubbed as a 'necessary' cleansing, mercilessly cutting down those he knew would never see reason to disobey the word of the Primarch with two strokes of his Manreaper, leaving him with only 1/3rd of the original crew, none being Astartes. The Deathshroud instructed them on his plan, taking longer than he would have liked to, due to his honoured position which prevented him from speaking. As his plan was put into action he sent a simple message over the Vox to Mortarion with simple intentions.

 _Tracking the traitor my lord… I shall see that your word is carried out_

He never waited for a response as the Deathshroud gave the order to begin and they were taken into the warp, heading straight for the one thing he never through he would see… Holy Terra. The months that followed were nothing short of strenuous as the forces of Chaos tried to stop the craft form ever reaching its destination, something that the Deathshroud had to make sure would never happen. He defended tooth and nail against Chaos as he was one of the only capable fighters left on the small ship, running out of ammunition in the first week and losing all but 12 of his crew until their craft broke through the immaterium and came into being on the fringes of the asteroid belt… something he would regret soon enough. The second the ship crashed out of the warp, a message told him of the death of the psyker navigator, something he didn't really care about… but another thing is that it alerted him to the entire armada of ships that was currently aiming just about every gun they had on his ship.

The Deathshroud quickly fired off a message to the closest of the ships, glad to receive a reply that told him of their plan. His ship was taken under the wing of the remaining loyalist legions, their daring escape being in vain as it was found that Battle-Captain Garro had made hast to Terra and warned the loyalists of Horus' plan. The remaining Deathshroud was tasked with being part of the battle group with the Blood Angels, fighting alongside them during the siege of the imperial palace and further into the corridors of the mighty fortress after the wall was destroyed by traitor titans. He fought valiantly throughout the campaign and survived until the very end, joining the Blood Angels in their last efforts of attack, breaking any semblance of cover or defence to run full-boar at the enemy and kill them where they stood.

After the battle had concluded, the Death Guard that he had pledged his allegiance to was all but gone, although the Deathshroud made a pact that day to never lay down the mantle of the legendary protector of the Primarch and strove to uphold the mantles that the original Death Guard had set. During the scouring of Terra to remove the last remnants of Chaos' grasp from its depths, the Deathshroud was found by a sect of the Emperor's guard and taken into questioning. After two days of torture and questioning to seek the answer to whether the Death Guard had any corruption tainting his soul, he was released and taken to the fortress moon of Titan, circling the vast planet of Jupiter. He was offered the position into a new legion of Astartes, those dubbed as the Grey Knights, a new Chapter that was devoted to the rooting out the source of all taints of Chaos. The Deathshroud accepted his role as a new member of this order, although he refused to lay down the mantle of his responsibility as one of the last to uphold the customs of the Death Guard.

One of the order's highest ranking members, Battle-Captain Garro, sought out the Deathshroud and gave him a last line of retribution for his Legion's heresy. After hearing what Garro had to say, the Deathshroud accepted his new duty and was inducted into the legion of the Grey Knights informally and was assigned unto the protection of the Sisters of Silence, allowing him to root out the heresy of Chaos' taint while providing protection to those who had lost so much during the time of the heresy. He was gifted Aegis Terminator armour by the Grey Knights, a specially designed system to ward him against the terrors of the warp, and was sent to join the Sisters of Silence on their journeys.

The three centuries of service that followed were of redemption for the Deathshroud, despite never being accepted as a true loyalist by the Sisters, he gained the knowledge that he was continuing the true legacy of the Death Guard.

And now was no different… donning his wargear for yet another mission into the depths of a Chaos tainted Space Hulk, the Deathshroud's mind wandered to the darkest moments of his Legion's history. He reminisced the times of his service for his true Death Lord as the many servitors strained to bolt the massive chestplate of his Tartaros pattern Terminator armour over the tangled mass of enhanced muscle bundles, struggling to lift the nearly 1 tonne piece of ceramite and plasteel to set it in place. His armour was made by the master artificers of Mars, the Deathshroud overseeing the making of his plate to ensure that it was keeping with the standards of the Death Guard, the armour being an exact replica of those worn by his brothers before they sided with Chaos.

The entire armour was artificered with half an inch of extra ceramite, a sound-dampening fabric being woven into the under-armour to ensure that the massive, master-worked plate made no noise at all, even when in the presence of an Astartes improved senses, something that could be accomplished by the Deathshroud even without the enhancements. The armour with no special adornments of accolades being put into the armour other than those of the golden Aquila being emblazoned on the front of his breastplate, the Crux Terminatus on his left pauldron and the dark sign of the original Death Guard burned into his right pauldron, the armour coloured the dark sky-grey that was iconic of the Death Guard, with the deep sea-green as the armours added adornment.

As soon as the servitors were finished attaching his armour, he bolted his helmet into place, hearing the satisfying hiss of the seals locking into place, brushing the servitors away with a slight movement of his arm and sent them reeling as he strode from the upright gear-setting table. Despite the massive bulk of the Terminator armour, making him roughly 8-foot tall, he moved with complete silence and perfection, the great size of his boots making no sounds on the metal of the ship he was stationed on, although the Deathshroud did hear the creaking and groaning of the support columns underneath him that struggled to hold his weight.

The armour he wore would normally make the wearer slow and sluggish, sacrificing speed for sheer un-breakability, although the Deathshroud had perfected the use of the Terminator armour to make them silent and quick, allowing him to move at often a faster pace than a normal mortal running while he was just casually walking, being able to keep pace with even the

His large form made it silently to the weapons rack of his personal room, taking all that he would need from it. He had distained the use of integrated weapons in his Terminator armour, preferring the use of free-hand firing and melee. He reached over and took his favoured ranged weapon from its place on the brass couplings of the weapons rack, a Mk IV Ultra Pattern Relic Bolter with his special enhancements. It was stained the same bone-grey of the Death Guard, having dark brass fitting where it was necessary, the Deathshroud fitting personal modifications such as a drum barrel and ensuring that all rounds in his magazine were armour piercing, preferring to not wait for the last meagre couple of bolts to give him extra penetrating power. With a casual glance, he looked through the drum that was in the weapon and picked up 4 more, giving him a total of 400 rounds, each clip holding specialised rounds, from Kraken bolts to Vengeance rounds that could tear through Power Armour like it was nothing.

He mag-locked the bulky rifle to his right thigh, the weapon still looking small compared to the massive armour, then moved onto his next armament, his melee. His Relic Chainsword was covered in runes and wyrds, each adding to the weapons already overpowered cutting power, the adamantium teeth being able to cut through solid ceramite, something he had seen too much of during the Horus Heresy. He performed a few practice swings, the blade being roughly the length of a short-sword when compared to the gigantic form of the Terminator armour, although still a large weapon when handed to normal mortals. He mag-locked it onto the right side of his belt and moved onto his last and final armament, the staple of the Deathshroud… his Manreaper.

The colossal scythe sat nestled in the grasp of a mannequin, barely held up by the brittle construction of the frame, the Deathshroud moving silently to collect the weapon that had claimed so many lives in its centuries of service. It was still the same weapon he had been gifted by the Death Lord himself, the blade just as sharp and deadly as the day he had first slain with it. The weapon stood perhaps a head taller than even him in full Terminator plate, the blade itself being at least 3-feet long. A spike guard protected his hands near the blade, as well as housing the power generator that would coat his blade in ionized particles so he could cut through bone armour like tissue paper. The scythe had been altered slightly, having movement pins put into place so that it would fold from the blade and the centre of the handle and change into a small 3-foot long bundle that he could mag-lock onto his back, made because of the unwieldiness of carrying the weapon constantly. The Deathshroud ran his finger along the blade, smiling as he saw that even that simple act would sheer a small amount of ceramite from his armoured fingers.

With a causal flick of his wrist, the great scythe collapsed into its compact form and he locked the weapon onto his lower back, just beneath the hulking mass of his curved power pack. Just as the Deathshroud was about to leave, he received the mission details and the layout of the Space Hulk, something that he would have to alter his loadout for. As he saw the wide-open spaces of some of the cargo-bays, he decided that carrying an Assault Cannon would help deal with those that he wouldn't be able to accurately fire with just his Bolter, so with the added help of the hastily swept away servitors, he connected the weapon to his right gauntlet, collecting the ammunition magazine and loading the weapon, seeing the small reticule appear on his Heads-Up Display. As an added safety net, two krak grenades were magnetised to his belt just in case he needed the extra fire-power. He swiftly left his personal chamber and headed straight for the loading dock.

One thing that he had grown accustomed to on the shipboard days of being with the Sisters is the amount of noise that was generated on board the ship… or more the lack of. As he moved, the only noise that penetrated the cavernous halls through which he walked was only that of the straining support columns and the slight hum of the engines far below. Even as he was walking, his heightened Astartes senses managed to hear the slightest of shifting fabric behind him which alerted him to the presence of a Sister that had fallen into step behind him. He continued in his course, passing many stations that were manned by aspirants of the Sisterhood, making as little noise as they could but not even being near the levels of stealth that true Sisters displayed. He arrived at the door to the loading docks, pressing his gauntlet against the scanning computer and opening the door in front of him, the Deathshroud resuming his silent mission towards the preparing Sisters of Silence.

His footfalls were halted when he came to the edge of a small circle of Sisters preparing their battle wyrd's, the small humming of their vocal cords echoing around the chamber they were in. The Deathshroud watched on in mute acknowledgement until they finished, standing and preparing their weaponry. He made his way to the craft they would be travelling to their location in, an unarmed Thunderbird built for speed, standing near the bay door and waiting for the others to finish. After the sound of weapons clatter and bolter breeches being cleared stopped, the Sisters silently made their way up the ramp of the Thunderbird. He followed once the last of their small part was aboard, exactly 20 including the Deathshroud, strapping himself into the large acceleration bracer specially designed to accommodate him. As the lights in the ship cut out and the landing door began rising, a Novice spoke above the din to relay the orders, probably on the request of the Oblivion Knight leading their mission.

"We are to be going into a derelict Space Hulk under orders to find and kill a rogue psyker who was responsible for a massacre on a Forge World three days ago… we will begin the mission as a strictly close combat procedure to ensure we reach the main atrium with as little resistance as possible… once the deed has been completed, we will be extracted via a breach that will be made two corridors from the command deck… contact is to be made in 2 minutes from now and extraction shall be made exactly 10 minutes after contact" spoke the petite voice of the Novice, being silenced after there was nothing else to say.

As soon as the Deathshroud heard that it was to be a silent mission, he looked down at the vastly oversized Assault Cannon on his right arm, knowing he couldn't take it off here without damaging something he just left it where it was and spun the barrels idly. As he felt the craft leave the ship, being shunted into the vacuum of space by the launch procedures, he looked to see a Sister of Silence motioning at him in ThoughtMark, the sign language used by the Sisters in conversations.

" _Your armament leaves much to be desired Astartes, how can you hope to stay within the mission parameters whilst hefting such a weapon as an Assault Cannon?_ "

" _Well Sister, it would seem you have not been into battle by my side as of yet… I can be as silent as your kin when the need arises…_ " he responded in a broken ThoughtMark, being limited by only having one hand free.

The Sister nodded, pulling her airtight mask over her face as the red battle lights came on inside the Thunderbird to indicate they were nearing the objective.

 _For the Emperor and the Death Guard…_

A dull thunk was heard as the Thunderbird docked against the side of the Space Hulk, the loading door lowering to reveal the hull of the Space Hulk they were meant to board. The Deathshroud unclasped from the harness and reached over to the side of the door, taking out a plasma torch and began burning through the thick hull of the ship. After 30 seconds of torching, he cut a hole large enough to fit his massive bulk into the side of the hull and kicked the steel, the sound of the steel clattering being mute in the void of space. He stepped through the breech, initiating the magnetic locks on his boots to keep him on the ground while he swept his Assault Cannon across the wide room that greeted him until he was sure there were no hostiles. He stood to the side as the Sisters jumped through, moving nimbly through the air in the zero G environment while they all made for the large walkway that was towering over the hanger. Once the last left the ship, he sent a small pulse through his neural processors which alerted the pilot of the dropship to leave, the Deathshroud de-activating the magnetic locks on his boots and kicking off to move his large form across the deck of the ship.

He grabbed onto a guard railing, nearly bending it off from the weight behind his momentum, to stop himself from passing the door that the Sisters were now trying to get past. He patiently waited for the deed to be completed and as he was watching, he spied a door on the opposite side of the hangar open and four traitor guardsmen came out in full vacuum gear holding lasguns while having the dark sign of Chaos emblazoned on their flak armour. The Deathshroud made their presence known as he tapped on the shoulder of the Sister's designated sniper and a few moments later, four keened knives were flying through the hollow vacuum at blinding speeds and found their mark in the throats of the four heretics. The Deathshroud was used to this sort of perfection from the Sisters, wasting no ammunition in places it was not needed, no extra effort taken to produce a slight bit of kill-glee, it was all for perfection and the completion of the mission… a complete polar opposite to the loud and often kill-urge fuelled antics within the ranks of the Death Guard Astartes.

Once the door was breached, they continued through the hollow and empty hallways of the Space Hulk, moving at speeds that would rival a hurricane. The Deathshroud in his heavy Terminator wargear brought up the rear of the assault squad, ensuring that every door they came through was hastily closed and each possible sign that they had been spotted were quelled. He was closing yet another door when he heard the trademark thunks of bolter fire and looked ahead to see a Sister of Silence floating back through the corridor with multiple las marks on her breastplate, quite obviously dead. He kicked off the door and propelled himself through the corridor until he came across the disturbance, finding that the Sisters were currently engaged in combat with hundreds of traitor guardsmen who were hiding behind the dull consoles of the ships command deck. He watched as two Sisters were making their way towards the centre podium, where a seemingly regular-looking guardsman was speaking a mute prayer as Warp energies flowed around him.

The Deathshroud immediately went into action, spinning up the Assault Cannon on his arm and letting rip with the near 100-round per second firing speed of the weapon. The bullets absolutely tore through the metal of the command consoles and went straight into the bodies of traitors that were foolishly trying to hide behind the useless cover. They soon discovered their mistake as no matter how thick they though the metal was, it could never hope to protect them as the literal bullet storm tore through everything and left death in its wake, the traitors being torn limb-from-limb as body parts flew in the zero-gravity environment spewing dark red blood everywhere. The hundreds of guardsmen were instantly scattering to behind the thicker bulkheads of the Space Hulk, although when they assessed the damages, they really only had around 30 men who were able to fight.

The Deathshroud forgot about the weak prey that had fallen beneath his guns and turned to see the Sisters engaged in a battle against the bodyguards of the chanting traitor, four large Thousand Sons Astartes. Just as he kicked off, a traitor guardsman had re-activated the artificial gravity from a terminal and the Deathshroud was sent sprawling to the floor from the massive weight of his armour. Quickly pulling himself to his feet as a few las rounds impacted harmlessly on his armour, spinning his Assault Cannon and tearing another five traitors within a second. He turned his attention back to the task at hand and quickly sprinted up the metal steps to the command gate to see the two Sisters still engaged in melee combat with the guardsman's bodyguards. He spun up his Assault Cannon and waited for the right opening, pulling the trigger for a mere second and filling one of the bodyguards with enough bullet holes to turn him into a sponge.

As he finished with the burst of fire, he looked down at his ammo counter and found there to be only 12 shots left of the perhaps 1000 he carried into the battle. Taking a few seconds to detach the Assault Cannon, the Deathshroud drew his chainsword and revved the engine and relished the sound of the weapon's adamantium teeth spinning at blinding speeds to make it seem as though it was one solid cutting blade. As he was about to head for one of the bodyguards, his attention was drawn to the chanting guardsman as his unintelligible babbling was coming to a loud climax as dangerous warp energies surrounded him and a small portal came into being in front of him.

The Deathshroud launched himself full-boar at the guardsman, slamming aside the three bodyguards as they feebly tried to halt him… a futile gesture when trying to halt a charging Terminator. He charged straight through the portal that was slowly coming into the materium and slammed into the Guardsman, sending him flying into the nearest wall and hearing his bones break. The Deathshroud didn't let up on his attack and grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him up, continuously slamming into the wall behind him and denting the metal. All throughout the onslaught, the man continued to chant through a blood-filled throat and the Warp energy began gathering into his hands. The Deathshroud stepped up his game and brought the chainsword to arms, placing it up against the man's chest and revving the blade, cutting straight through his body and severing his connection to his lower organs, splattering the wall with red.

Despite now being half a person, the traitor continued chanting and his hands now glowed a dark purple and, once his chanting ended, he placed them both on the head of the Deathshroud before spitting out his solitary last words.

"Now it is your turn to be sent to a world full of Daemons… not even someone like you can withstand the Warp forever!"

The Deathshroud ended the man's life by tightening his grip around his neck and crushing it completely, dropping the man's lifeless body to the floor as he did a quick check on himself. Somehow, the man had breached the Aegis shielding of his Terminator plate and Warp energies were swirling around his body, the Deathshroud feeling a faint other-worldly presence filling his mind.

Pain surged through him as the warp began to take more precedence and he fell to one knee, feeling the full weight of his armour bear down upon him and a strange constriction flowing over him. He turned and saw the two Sisters of Silence finish of the bodyguards and turn to face him, their impassive masks betraying any showing of emotion. He knew what had to be done and he knew it would have to happen eventually.

He handed the Bolter over to one of the Sisters, aiming the stubby barrel underneath his chin, right were his armour was the weakest and there was no chance of him surviving. The two Sisters both gave the sign of the Aquila, a last vestige to his commitment to the Emperor, but he left it unanswered as he pulled the trigger, ending his life before the Warp could claim his soul… he would never let that happen.

As Deathshroud's lifeless body collapsed to the floor, the metal grating of the command deck denting from the weight, the Sisters witnessed a strange sight. As the warp energies retreated back to the immaterium, they saw pure, holy light begin to shine upon the corpse, the light being too strong to look at for long. It spread across his body, coating all that was part of the once-man until, in a blinding flash of gold, his body disappeared to the depths of the immaterium, never to be seen again. After this battle, the Sisters wouldn't even be able to log the sacrifice made by the Space Marine… for who can attest to having a dead man fight with you.


	2. Death comes to Remnant

**Well, looks like I just couldn't keep my hands off the badassness that is Warhammer, so I ended up continuing and writing another chapter... so I hope you enjoy...**

 **To respond to a couple reviews, I'd like to clear up a few things...**

 **1\. Yes, I know that the Legions were not technically 'disbanded' and that they were formed into over 660 Chapters so that there wouldn't be another mass-conversion in their ranks**

 **2\. I know that Mortarion and the Death Guard did turn traitor, yet there were still some loyalists in their ranks, with the only loyalists surviving being Nathaniel Garro and the few that went along with him... the Deathshroud surviving is probably the only bit of Non-Canon that I added**

 **3\. The Grey Knights were founded with the help of Loyalists from the Traitor Legions, as well as a few other Loyalists and a few other 'important' people...**

 **Also, just to clear it up... this is NOT a Warhammer 40k fanfiction... it is set in the years after the Horus Heresy, so the Deathshroud isn't over 10,000 years old or something like that... This is set in the 30th Millennium and there haven't been any MAJOR developments past the defeat of Horus at the battle for Terra**

 **AND FINALLY... I am not a Warhammer nerd who sits and reads through the library's worth of lore behind it, so I don't know EVERYTHING, just the stuff that I read and research, so if any of you ask 'which Primarch did this pubic hair come from' I can't answer it... mainly because it's disgusting, but still! I'm doing my best to keep everything Canon and include everything I can, as well as keeping the armaments and armour to that era, so you won't be seeing any of the weapons from 40k in this... or will you?**

 **Naughtbeast**

Chapter 2:

The Warp is an unimaginable tangle of everything that has, hasn't and ever will exist in the universe, the very act of viewing it being enough to turn a man insane. So, when the Deathshroud opened his eyes after stopping the taint from reaching his soul, he was all but expecting to see either the Divine Emperor himself or be face-to-face with the four ruinous powers… he didn't expect to be laying on his back in a forest of red.

As he sat up, his eyes took mere milli-seconds to adjust to the lighting and begin assessing the situation. His HUD still showed that he had all his weapons attached still with full ammunition capacity, with his Aegis shielding being fully active as well… so why did everything feel so wrong. He stood up without much effort, his Terminator armour being fully operational and weighing practically nothing, then reached to his thigh and took off the Chainsword and Bolter, holding them at the ready in case he met any resistance… and then began walking.

For nearly a day he had walked, not finding any signs of civilisation or Xenos alike, until he saw something that seemed vaguely familiar, an aircraft. Its design was unlike any he had seen used by the Imperium so his senses were already on high alert, although it was his best lead yet. Reaching into the satchel at the small of his back, he took out a single Bolter round and loaded it manually, carefully aiming at the craft and firing when he knew he would hit.

The round impacted into the side of the craft and immediately a small waypoint appeared on his HUD that tracked the craft. This was thanks to the Ulysses round he had loaded, a nasty little thing that didn't penetrate a target, but stuck to it almost indefinitely and gives the exact location of the target until the round was found and destroyed.

Racking the Kraken round back into the Bolter, he began to walk after the craft at a normal pace… which was still ridiculously fast. It was another half hour until the craft descended into a clearing and four humans climbed out, each holding ridiculous weapons that wouldn't have even been approved for Guardsmen use. What's more, there wore little-to-no armour yet they held an air about them that they were going to fight… but wore what could be akin to an Ork.

Before the craft flew off, the Deathshroud made his presence known and walked out into their view, their faces mimicking those of just about everyone who saw an Astartes for the first time… that of complete disbelief and outright fear at the sheer size of the monster that stood before them. The Deathshroud calmly walked up to them, noting that they were a solid two to three feet smaller than him and that they were already holding their weapons with shaking hands.

When he was closer, he took more notice to try and identify who he was talking to, noting that each of them were females, although one had a strange scent about them. They didn't look to be any older than 18 cycles, a mere infant when compared to a Space Marine, yet they appeared to carry a military air to them, like they had only just come out of the Astra Militarum boot camp.

The other thing he noticed was there they had no uniformity, not even carrying weapons that had any semblance of relation to one another and their clothes emphasized that, being Red, White, Black and Yellow respectively.

Barely a second had passed that he decided to talk. Without the aid of a Sister of Silence aspirant, he had no form of communication other than ThoughtMark and no-one outside the Sisters and the Adeptus Astartes knew it well enough to hold a decent conversation, so that was out… although he still had one option. The neural implants that were drilled in during the years of his initiation allowed for the conversion of thoughts into a computer code, allowing a Vox transmitter to project a voice much like a servitor.

" **What is the name of this planet?** " was the simple question, a robotic and gravelly voice giving the question and making the four that stood before him turn white in fear… although one had already accomplished that far before.

"ummm… Remnant?" replied one of them, the Deathshroud's gaze shifting to the one garbed in red.

" **What Imperial sector and Segmentum are you under the directive of?** "

"Imperial sector?" questioned one, this time it being from the one in white, "Who made you?"

It was nearly unheard of for those under Imperial rule to have not at least heard of the Emperors Angels of Death, being it a simple legend passed on by the Astra Militarum members who were stationed there, or from times back during the Great Crusade when it was the Legiones Astartes who were bringing worlds into the folds of the Imperium.

" **I am part of the Legiones Astartes and I was born using the gene-seed of Mortarion, the Death Lord, though I swear no allegiance to the ruinous powers** "

"The what? What are you even talking about?" the one in yellow interrupting his speech.

" **Have you no knowledge of the four ruinous powers child?** "

"No, what do they have to do with anything anyway?" White asked, clutching her rapier with white knuckles (pun intended) as she worked up the courage to talk. The Deathshroud turned to meet her gaze, seeing that she held probably the highest martial prowess out of all of them, so he directed his conversation to her.

" **If you were not informed on the machinations of the false gods then I must assume that you have no knowledge of the God Emperor?** "

"Who?"

" **Interesting… please, could you lead me to the governor of this planet, I wish to speak with them** "

"We don't have a governor…"

" **A space-port then, that should suffice** "

"Space? Dust doesn't operate outside of the planet…"

" **Dust… how could tiny particles of waste matter possibly relate to my need to travel to the stars** "

"Dust? Crystallised elements? Fire, lightning, ice and water?"

" **You are speaking like it is a common resource on this world, am I to assume that this substance is used to power your machines?** "

"It's used for everything… how can you not know this?"

" **That is a question for another time, if my assessment is true then you are merely soldiers, so I wish to speak to your superior, maybe they will provide information worth my time** "

"HEY! Are you saying we're not worth your time!" interrupted the one in yellow, her eyes turning red for a second, something that the Deathshroud did, in fact, notice.

" **Those who challenge a member of the Death Guard are one of two things… stupid enough to do so, or they think that they can triumph in a fight… which do you claim to be child?** "

"I'M NOT A CHILD! And I could kick your ass any day!"

As if the mockery was answered by whoever was watching over the conversation, the Deathshroud sensed a killing intent that was moving towards their location and raised his Bolter, aiming the sights into the trees and waiting for the foe to emerge… and as soon as it did he was sorely disappointed. The thing in front of him would barely be as big as an Ork and its claws were nothing to marvel at, looking more like a were-beast from the old tales… so he pulled the trigger.

The Adamantium-cored .75 calibre Kraken round erupted from the muzzle of the Bolter with a beautiful sound, taking no time in finding its way to the targets head, removing said appendage with barely any effort and continuing on, burrowing into the ground behind it and producing a shower of dirt and grass.

As a response, a series of loud howls emanated from the surrounding forest, the sensors in the Deathshroud's armour picking up numerous amounts of Xenos that were converging on their location. He mag-locked the Bolter, deeming whatever these petty creatures were as unworthy of his Holy Relic, preferring to use his Relic Chainsword instead, its machine spirit already humming with joy in preparation for the slaughter that was sure to follow. It wasn't as sanctified and significant as his bolter was and he would use it whenever the taint of Chaos was undeserving of a quick and painless death.

" **Children, stay behind me and I shall ensure that you are not harmed** " he instructed, revving the motor of his sword to silence any replies, issuing the words as a command rather than a request. They didn't seem to want to exactly argue with an 8-foot tall thing that had a chainsaw as a sword for a weapon. Given, it only looked to be the size of a short-sword compared to the massive bulk that was his Terminator armour, it was definitely something they didn't want to trifle with.

A moment later, another of the strange creature broke through the underbrush followed by several more of the same species, all resembling the one he had killed before. They all attacked in unison, although they were quickly silenced as the Adamantium teeth of the Chainsword met their charge, easily rending their flesh into nothing and killing them instantly, all of them killed in a single swing of the sword.

A pack of roughly thirty broke through and they were met with the same gory end as their brothers, brutal dismemberment at the hands of the Deathshroud, no longer being able to do anything as their limbs were hacked off, courtesy of the Chainsword.

He felt that the creatures were hesitating when they saw this occur and no more broke their cover for some time, until the Deathshroud sensed a larger threat that was there to reinforce those that sought to kill him. Slowly, a massive bear-like Xenos lumbered through the underbrush, large enough to stand roughly as big as an Ork Warboss… although, then again, they didn't really stand a chance against Terminators either. The bear roared forward, so the Deathshroud met it with his own, sprinting forward with his Chainsword still whirring. The beast swing with its left claw, although it never hit its intended target as the Deathshroud reached out and stopped the blow by grabbing onto the beast's claw.

It tried to struggle out, to no avail, then the Chainsword came down like a roaring Tyrranid, tearing through the things flesh and painting the green forest floor with black miasma. The thing had barely any time to react in pain as the Deathshroud brought the Chainsword back around and ripped its head off, watching silently as it rolled to the floor with a 'thunk', rolling conveniently right in front of the four children as they watched on with slack jaws.

" **I believe it may be an insightful action to leave this area before any more of these Xenos arrive** " the Deathguard announced, sheathing his sword and lumbering over to the strange craft, climbing in and sitting down on the floor expectantly, waiting for the four children to follow. They only stood there completely slack jawed for a few moments before reluctantly sheathing their weapons as well and climbing on-board, ensuring to keep as far away from him as they could.

The one in white took out a strange device and her fingers danced over the slate for a few moments, until the craft eventually took off and began flying above the forest towards an unseen destination.

" **Where is the intended stop for this machine?** " spoke the massive marine, startling them with his sudden interruption.

"We are heading to Beacon academy" the one in red informed him, squeaking a bit as her voice almost cracked when he turned to her.

" **Is this where I can find someone with more authority?** "

"I guess, I mean you must already know Ozpin and everything because you're an awesome machine thingy with a big gun and cool sword thingy!" she replied, gaining a bit more confidence as they conversed, the others still shying back and letting her do the talking.

" **I have not heard of this Ozpin figure, although I assume that he is the head of this schola… what I also must question is the nature of your weapons, they do not seem functional enough to be effective fighting tools** "

"They aren't tools! They're an extension of ourselves and are a very part of our body and soul!" countered the small child, ignoring the pseudo-insult at their weapons and taking a large block of steel from behind the small of her back, cradling it in her arms, almost as if she was carrying a baby. The Deathshroud smiled slightly as she reminded him of his first time he was given a lecture by the Death Guard's resident tech-priests when he complained that his Bolter was jamming… it was a long day… and night.

" **May I be so bold as to ask if you have perhaps heard of the Adeptus Mechanicus?** " he queried, earning a confused head-tilt from the girl.

"Adepticus Whaticus?" she stuttered, the marine flinching at her butchering of the cult's name.

" **Forget my query, I was incorrect to assume you had heard of the machine cult** "

Come to think of it, he wasn't exactly feeling a presence from the machine he was currently travelling in, the strongest spirit being the roiling aura that was given off my his Manreaper. Another thing he did notice was the slight flaring of his Aegis shielding, the ward that was placed upon his armour to protect him from psykers, placed there by the Grey Knights. It was acting up strangely, the Deathshroud feeling the slight warmth of the wyrds burned into place under his armour plating, as they hummed to life sporadically.

" **Do any of you know of the presence of psykers nearby our location?** "

They all gave him the same look they had for just about every question, one where they looked like they were talking to someone who was insane.

"Ummm… I have a feeling you aren't exactly up-to-date on stuff" the one in red ventured, basically summing up his entire situation.

" **I believe you may be right, young one… I am not sure where or when I have been placed and it is worrying me with your indifference to the critical terms I have been introducing… your blatant disregard to the ruinous powers, psykers and the Imperium suggest that you are either a long-lost colony, or you are linked to them unknowingly, both of which are causing me great discomfort… do you know of any beings in this world who can utilise their will to alter their state or the state of the Materium around them?** "

They all almost went wide-eyed, wondering why he made it sound like a bad thing, something which the girl in red seemed to either not notice completely, or simply didn't care.

"OH! You mean Hunters and Huntresses! Yeah, we already unlocked our Aura and Semblances and they're super cool! I can run, like, super-fast!"

She demonstrated by almost teleporting to another place on the airship, the gene-seeds in the Deathshroud allowing him to track her movements slightly, although it was still a sight to behold. She was smiling happily to display her powers, although the Deathshroud was even more worried by this revelation. For children such as these to already have such control over their psychic powers was almost unheard of and even more so, that they hadn't already been turned to Chaos.

" **And you three are the same as this child?** " he asked, watching as they paled slightly, already answering his question before they replied " **then, this is quite the development… may I ask if you hear voices in your heads, or perhaps see things that are not there?** "

They all quickly shook their heads immediately, although he wasn't exactly sure if they were telling the truth, he was sure that they, more than likely, would have attacked him the second they saw him if they were indeed under the influence of the ruinous powers… although they might still be under the influence of Slaanesh and be trying to corrupt him slowly and surely… which would explain their unique choice in clothing.

"The place where we're going is full of Hunters and Huntresses in training, all with their own Semblances, it's really awesome!" the girl in red commented, not at all picking up the mood in the air. Now, the Deathshroud was truly questioning the sanity of this world… if a schola specifically made for psykers was ever to exist… he felt pity for those in the same system as them.

" **An entire schola of your kind might not be the greatest ideas, but may I ask how long has this practice been conducted?** "

"We're only first years, but Beacon's been around for ages!" she answered, skipping happily around, seeming to finally write off the Deathshroud as a threat after he hadn't done anything to hurt them.

" **Even more troubling… I believe that it is imperative I speak to your commander the moment we land** "

"I'll call ahead and get Ozpin to meet us there!" happily chimed the small girl, taking out her own small portable slate and tapping it a few times, the sound of ringing faintly coming from the device as she held it up to her ears. It was a few moments before he heard it connect and a distinctively male voice come over the speakers.

" _Hello Miss Rose, to what do I owe the pleasure?_ "

"Hi Sir! We went to the forest like you said and we found this really big guy who looks really cool, with really cool weapons and he even has a massive chainsaw-sword thingy that was all like 'wacha – blam – rahhhh' and cut the Grimm like paper!"

The mans voice seemed to gain a slightly more concerned tone in his next response.

"May I ask what he looks like and where he is now"

"He's sitting in the Bullhead on the way back with us and he's wearing this really weird armour like a robot that's literally as big as a car! It's all a weird grey colour and the edges look like sea-weed!"

"Miss Rose, could I ask that you make Beacon your next stop and meet me at the landing pads, I'd very much like to speak with this person"

"Sure thing Sir, we're coming right away…"

She was just about to hand up before she was stopped by a quick addition by the man on the other end. He spoke as silently as he could, probably because the man assumed he would be listening in on their conversation… which he was.

"Don't trust this person Miss Rose, I do not believe he is a friend of ours"

"Yes Sir!" she replied instantly, actually going so far as to salute even though he couldn't see her. The Deathshroud was about to make a comment, until his thoughts were taken by the view of a city outside the open door of the craft. He knew at a first glance that he was VERY far from Holy Terra if the buildings were anything to go by. They didn't even bare a SLIGHT resemblance to the High Gothic architecture that was employed widely across the entire Imperium, even the worlds that hadn't seen the grace of Terra in millennium having enough sense to craft their buildings like that of their home planet.

Another worrying factor was that he couldn't see any actual defences, not even a single flyer or transport vessel flying over the town, enough to convince him finally that he definitely wasn't anywhere near his home. The small number of crafts he could see were all grouped around a smaller district that was perched on the edge of a cliff away from the main city, none of them looking anything like what he would have expected from any self-respecting colony world. If they were this undefended, they either had a massive fleet stationed above, which was already out of the question considering the response the white girl had given him when he mentioned the void that was space, while the other was that they didn't need defence… which was even more unlikely.

Their craft flew for a minute longer before they neared the edge of the cliff, although what the Deathshroud could see on the pads was DEFINITELY not a welcoming party. There were roughly fifty robotic soldiers that were encircling one of the pads, where they were going to land, while there were four other people standing there, all holding strange implements between them, ranging from a cane, to something that looked like a cross between a double-headed axe and a blunderbuss… something that he guessed a Space Wolf probably would have dreamed of in their sleep.

" **I take it that this is who called?** " he asked sceptically, pretending he didn't listen to their entire conversation.

"Yeah, but I don't know why he's got half of the Professors out to meet you as well"

The Deathguard heard a faint cry of 'DOCTOR!' from the landing pads, but he was more focused on the array of weapons that he was facing. The robots that he saw did not appear to have very powerful armament, their weapons looking vaguely similar to a Plasma Gun, which he could easily shrug off, although they may bear likeness to Eldar weapons, a lot of firepower packed into a small package. The four persons with them posed more of a problem.

As the bullhead turned to begin their decent, the girl in red waving energetically for the people on the ground to see, although he could clearly see that they were focused on him more… and the second they saw him, they immediately went hostile.

"GET OUT OF THERE STUDENTS! HE IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS!" shouted one that wore what resembled a trench coat, a large baton resting on his shoulder that had a small pilot flame burning from the tip. The second it was shouted, the robots around them raised their rifles and took aim at him… while the four girls were in the way. The white, black and yellow dressed children all jumped clear the moment they saw it, but it was the red one that stayed behind, a look of determination crossing her features.

"DON'T SHOOT, HE'S A GOOD GUY!" she shouted down to them, standing in front of him with her arms spread, as though she could block the shots.

"MISS ROSE, PLEASE JUMP NOW!" ordered the man in with the cane, gripping it how he would expect to see with a sword… but it was too late. The second the machine touched down on the landing pad, the robots all pulled the trigger, sending multiple volleys of a glowing white projectile straight at them. Acting on instinct, the Deathshroud moved with a speed that was uncharacteristic of a person with a bulk like his, blocking the shots from hitting the small girl, unlocking the Bolter from his thigh as he did.

Without flinching, he turned enough so that he got a bead on the robots and began firing, each shot from his Bolter instantly drowning out the other gunfire as the massive .75 calibre shells erupted forth with holy fire, downing one of the automatons with each precise trigger pull. Not even a quarter into the weapons clip and every single one of the robots lay in a small pile of scrap on the floor. He looked back to the girl and saw that she was successfully protected from their assault, her small form quivering as she was sheltered by the bulk of his Terminator wargear.

" **Do not worry little one, I shall ensure you are not harmed… stay behind me and we shall get out of this alive** " he ordered, waiting for the gunfire to continue, only to find that they had halted. With a quick check on his HUD, he saw that the gunfire from the robots had done little more that scorch the outside of his armour, doing absolutely no internal or external damage. He turned slowly to face his attackers and saw all of them in combat stances, although they held their ground as they eyed him down with glares.

"Let her go…" ordered a woman who wore a strange garb, a white tee-shirt and a black pencil skirt, a purple cloak flowing over her shoulders and a riding crop held in her tight grip, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. The Deathshroud doubted that they would hurt her if he handed her over, considering that they hadn't yet made a move on the other three that had jumped free. With an ushering hand motion, he gestured for the girl hidden behind him to move, said person complying a moment later as she dashed out at insane speeds, appearing once again next to the other three members of her team.

And the second she left… the four persons of the 'greeting party' decided to make their move. The Professor that had first shouted for them to jump dashed forward and his club caught fire as he did, a large fireball engulfing the weapon as it came towards him. The Deathshroud was taken back by the speed at which it happened, knowing that if he hadn't already seen the red girl display her powers, he wouldn't have known what to do… but he knew exactly how this fight was going to go… did they really think fire club was going to do anything?

Manually pumping adrenaline through his veins thanks to his gene-seeds, he sharpened his senses and reaction speed significantly, enough so that he could go through this fight one-handed if he needed to, if these people were at psyker level of strength, then his Aegis shielding would prevent any attempts they could make on his mind or body, it was only a matter of how they would change the environment around him.

The whistling sound of the weapon that was careening for his head snapped him back to reality, his left arm coming up unconsciously to grab the weapon, the Deathshroud wanting to test just how powerful they were. His hand wrapped around the head of the club as it came down, although the power behind it was something he definitely didn't expect. It hit with the power that he would expect from perhaps an Ork Boy swinging around a choppa, but nothing like what a normal human would be able to, not even a Space Marine… they were definitely psykers.

As the Deathshroud held the mace in his hands as the flames did nothing more than provide a nice toasty feeling for his fingers, the man's face contorted into extreme shock… even more so when the massive metal behemoth tightened his grip and the distinct sound of metal warping and bending screeched into the air. The Terminator decided to be rid of this nuisance and backhanded the man, sending him flying a good fifty feet to the side and rolling another ten or so before they came to a stop. He still held the man's club in his hand and threw it to the ground, taking out his Manreaper and holding it, still in its compact form, in his arm.

"If you wish to continue on this fruitless endeavour, be my guest…" mocked the Deathshroud, waiting for one of the remaining three to continue. When one made to take another attack, he smiled inside his helmet and he released the pins on his massive scythe, the full 8-foot glory of the weapon snapping into place and the power generator humming a delicious tune, coating the Adamantium blade in a crackling blue energy, "but know that I shall make your deaths painful and deserving of one who challenges the might of the Emperor's Chosen!"

The man who wielded the axe-gun combo was the first to charge, running forward as he held the weapon in its gun form, shouting a battle-cry as he went, the woman with the purple cape running in next to him for back-up. The Deathshroud dashed forward as fast as his massive bulk would allow, which was albeit, nowhere near as fast as his attackers, but then again… that was never the point of Terminator armour.

The man fired a shot from his blunderbuss… but whatever he was using just pinged off the Ceramite of his armour, not even removing any of the paint. The man didn't have any time to right this as the Deathshroud made a massive swing with his Manreaper, the weapon careening towards them with unparalleled speed. They brought up their weapons to block, something which he scoffed at silently… what hope did their weapons have against a Power Scythe that was crafted at the hands of the Machine Cult's finest?

Apparently, they stood a tiny glimmer of a chance as he saw the man with the massive moustache block his scythe, despite being thrown to the side from the force, the only injury to show being a slight dent into the metal of his axe. The woman didn't fare as well as she dived under the swing of the blade… only to be met by the full-speed charging form of a Space Marine wearing full Terminator wargear… something that you could describe as being hit by an Ork Battlewagon while it was being kicked like a football by a Titan.

She didn't have any time to move as he slammed into her with his shoulder, sending her flying much further than he had with the other two, her form flying like a rocket until she crashed into the ground. One thing the Deathshroud had noticed about them was that they were certainly more… throwable. His Scythe flipped around in his grip as he trailed the blade on the ground, tearing a large rent into the ground where it followed, the Deathshroud heading straight for the last member of the team of four he had seen.

He stood there with a slight scowl across his features as he still held his cane, a glint of hate crossing his features as his eyes locked with the eye-slits of the Deathshroud. As the Space Marine barrelled towards him, he seemed to disappear, giving the veteran soldier pause until he remembered that he was dealing with psykers, until said soldier felt a massive hit against his side, right in-between his chestplate and waist armour, striking the fibre bundles that were strewn there. The Manreaper twirled around lightning fast to strike the offender, only to meet air as they had already moved, another strike at his opposite side enforcing the fact.

He twisted his Manreaper horizontal to the ground and swung in a full circle, hoping to catch the attacker and bisect them, only to see a blur of the man as he jumped out of reach. He was just about to continue his assault on him, until his massive body was knocked forwards, his frame staggering significantly, as he felt five projectiles hitting the back of his armour, a faint warmth emanating from the struck points. He assumed that the man with the fire-bludgeon had regained his foot, the Deathshroud swapping his scythe to a one-handed stance while his off-hand unlocked his bolter once again, quickly bringing it to bear on whoever had hit him.

Sure enough, the man was standing back up with the pilot flame on his bludgeon burning brightly and faint trails of smoke led to where he was. The bolter's breach erupted in delight as he armour-piercing Kraken round bloomed towards its target, the man's body being struck strongly on his shoulder, sending him reeling… the only problem was that he wasn't dead. Normally, a Kraken AP round was enough to send anything back to the warp in a few shots, yet this man didn't even appear damaged by it… not even psykers could shrug it off without some sort of warp-shielding.

He quickly righted his mistake by pressing the trigger down again, three more bullets travelling at the speed of sound towards its target, although the man seemed to just be able to dodge to the side now that he was expecting it, side-stepping each shot as it came his way.

The Deathshroud cursed and swung his scythe behind him, making the man behind him stop mid-attack to avoid being cut. His thoughts were once-again shifted mid-battle when he saw the shredded bodies of the robots being lifted into the air with a strange purple aura surrounding them, the woman with a purple cape standing behind them with a wicked look on her face, her riding crop glowing the same colour as the objects she was lifting.

 _Definitely a psyker then…_

He brought his Bolter around and unleashed a fully-auto barrage on her, a number of the robot's bodies being brought in front of her to stop the bullets, while the rest were sent his way in almost spear-like clumps. He quickly noted what direction they were coming from and how fast they were coming. At the last second, he dived to the side in a moment's notice, something which no-one expected from someone of his bulk, his fingers thumbing the switch to drop the magazine of his Bolter, the massive clip falling to the ground with a thud and a new one taking its place a moment later.

He ran straight towards the woman, his instincts telling him that she wouldn't be as effective in CQC combat, given how that she didn't have a melee weapon like the others… and just like the Tau, she'd be slaughtered the second he got within Scythe range. When she saw just what was happening, she fired off another clump of the metal, as well as bringing her other hand up and making it glow the strange ghostly purple. He didn't see just what that did, but he did bother to bring up his Bolter, shooting straight at the clumps of metal and watching as they erupted in even smaller shards when the explosive cores detonated.

When she was a few feet from being in range, he finally realised just what she was doing with her off-hand, when his suit's close-range scanners alerted him to something coming from behind him, the objects travelling at much the same speed as he had seen her previous spears go with. Timing his strike perfectly, he spun around mid-sprint and slashed his Manreaper horizontally, slicing the spear in half and causing it to split to either side of him, using his momentum to twist around again, just in time to see the psyker woman charging up another spell again.

She flicked her riding crop at him, its purple aura glowing brightly… but nothing happened. He felt his Aegis shielding take some sort of blow and was glad that she had chosen to attack him directly. Her eyes went wide in fear and she made to jump backwards before he got to her, although he had other plans. His scythe shot forward and hooked behind her back, the Deathshroud pulling quickly and sending her body towards him, his other hand locking his Bolter to his thigh before shooting back up and grabbing onto her head, holding her in place and lifting her high into the air.

She tried to bring her crop up to try another one of her stunts, until it was quickly knocked away with a backwards strike from his scythe, the weapon clattering to the floor uselessly. He held her up to his face, his hand fully enclosing her head as if it was the size of an apple… and he could crush it just as easily.

" **I hope you are pleased that you have made an enemy of me, because I'm going to kill you and your friends slowly and painfully** "

She struggled to say something, but the Deathshroud was far past the point of talking… her death was the only outcome he would be happy with. He tightened his grip as much as he could and he began to hear her screaming in an ungodly howl as he slowly felt his strength making headway, her hands feebly trying to pry open his hands as time went on. The other three people he had seen upped their game at her cries and began peppering his back with gunfire… although it still didn't do anything to stop him.

He felt weapons bounce of his Ceramite plating, causing slight pains in his skin underneath from the impact force, not causing anything more than a few bruises for later. He swung his scythe behind him to clear them away, becoming tired from the amount of time it was taking to crush this woman's head in… not even another Space Marine in Terminator gear could have held out for this long.

Just as he felt the last bits of her strange shielding fading into nothingness as it drained to protect her from death, he heard a shout from behind him.

"Miss Rose! NO!" shouted who he assumed to be the man with the cane-sword, before he felt a tiny weight land on his power pack, just above where his helmet was. Next, a mechanical clunking that sounded something along the lines of a clip chambering echoed next to his helmet and he felt something press against the top of his helmet… right before he heard a voice.

"LET HER GO PLEASE!" came the light and almost cracking voice of the girl in red.

" **She aimed to kill me, so I replied in kind** " explained the Deathshroud, lightening his grip so he didn't have to murder her right in front of the girl.

"I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding!" she argued, her voice cracking finally as the Deathshroud could tell she was crying.

" **If these people are your superiors then am I to assume that you harbour the same feelings against me** "

"I don't even know why they attacked! You didn't even do anything!" she cried, the grip on the weapon held at his head beginning to become shaky. He knew fully well what kind of situation she was in… listen to your superiors, or go with what you know…

Just as he was about to reply, he once again was interrupted by a voice… one that sounded strangely… familiar. Once it finally clicked, his grip on the woman was released and she dropped to the ground, his massive bulk instead turning to face the sound… and his throat instantly went dry. He placed the end of his Manreaper on the ground so that it stood straight and dropped to a knee, placing his off-hand across his chest.

As the others stopped at his strange display, they looked around for who had spoken, not finding anyone, until they looked up. The four girls gasped and stood there wide-eyed as they saw the visitor as they floated down from the sky. The four professors took the time to re-group and face the Deathshroud with their weapons, preparing for if he made a move.

"Do not fret Headmaster, this man means us no harm" the voice calmly spoke, its tone lilting and angelic in nature that filled all those that heard it with a sense of peace.

"But, his armour… you warned us against it!"

"This man appears to be exempt from the fate of his brothers, else he would have already made a move… as well as showing more hate towards my arrival"

Just as he finished speaking, the Deathshroud heard two massive thuds as the owner of the voice landed heavily, a few steps following as he felt them move closer.

"Stand, son of Mortarion…" they commanded, the Deathshroud feeling almost powerless against its will, so follow it he did… to come face-to-face with someone he definitely didn't expect to see.

He was known as the Great Angel… the Brightest one… but the Deathshroud knew him by one name alone that was enough to give him his highest respect… for he stood in front of the mighty Sanguinius, mighty Primarch of the IX Legion… the true Blood Angel.


End file.
